'If you are not mad, it was no conduct at all,' cried the girl,
with a flash of colour, 'and showed you did not care one penny
for my feelings!'

'This is the very devil and all. I know--I admit that,' cried
Gideon, with a great effort of manly candour.

'It was abominable conduct!' said Julia, with energy.

'I know it must have shaken your esteem,' said the barrister.
'But, dearest Miss Hazeltine, I beg of you to hear me out; my
behaviour, strange as it may seem, is not unsusceptible of
explanation; and I positively cannot and will not consent to
continue to try to exist without--without the esteem of one whom
I admire--the moment is ill chosen, I am well aware of that; but
I repeat the expression--one whom I admire.'

A touch of amusement appeared on Miss Hazeltine's face. 'Very
well, I said she, 'come out of this dreadfully cold place, and
let us sit down on deck.' The barrister dolefully followed her.
'Now,' said she, making herself comfortable against the end of
the house, 'go on. I will hear you out.' And then, seeing him
stand before her with so much obvious disrelish to the task, she
was suddenly overcome with laughter. Julia's laugh was a thing to
ravish lovers; she rolled her mirthful descant with the freedom
and the melody of a blackbird's song upon the river, and repeated
by the echoes of the farther bank. It seemed a thing in its own
place and a sound native to the open air. There was only one
creature who heard it without joy, and that was her unfortunate
admirer.

'Miss Hazeltine,' he said, in a voice that tottered with
annoyance, 'I speak as your sincere well-wisher, but this can
only be called levity.'

Julia made great eyes at him.

'I can't withdraw the word,' he said: 'already the freedom with
which I heard you hobnobbing with a boatman gave me exquisite
pain. Then there was a want of reserve about Jimson--'

'But Jimson appears to be yourself,' objected Julia.

'I am far from denying that,' cried the barrister, 'but you did
not know it at the time. What could Jimson be to you? Who was
Jimson? Miss Hazeltine, it cut me to the heart.'

'Really this seems to me to be very silly,' returned Julia, with
severe decision. 'You have behaved in the most extraordinary
manner; you pretend you are able to explain your conduct, and
instead of doing so you begin to attack me.'

'I am well aware of that,' replied Gideon. 'I--I will make a
clean breast of it. When you know all the circumstances you will
be able to excuse me.

And sitting down beside her on the deck, he poured forth his
miserable history.

'O, Mr Forsyth,' she cried, when he had done, 'I am--so--sorry!
wish I hadn't laughed at you--only you know you really were so
exceedingly funny. But I wish I hadn't, and I wouldn't either if
I had only known.' And she gave him her hand.

Gideon kept it in his own. 'You do not think the worse of me for
this?' he asked tenderly.

'Because you have been so silly and got into such dreadful
trouble? you poor boy, no!' cried Julia; and, in the warmth of
the moment, reached him her other hand; 'you may count on me,'
she added.

'Really?' said Gideon.

'Really and really!' replied the girl.

'I do then, and I will,' cried the young man. 'I admit the moment
is not well chosen; but I have no friends--to speak of.'